Punishments for the Past
by KPMellark
Summary: Cato and Clove survived the Hunger Games. They have nothing to fear in their comfortable lives in Victor's Village with each other's love. But with the Quarter Quell looming in their future, will their love be able to keep them alive as it did before?


**As promised, the sequel to A Bloodthirsty Love! Finally! Please be patient with me as I will be travelling a lot this summer, but it will be completed! Also my writing might be a little rusty, ninth grade English didn't do much to keep it in good use! Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy!**

Chapter One

**Cato's POV**

A distant crack of thunder mercilessly startles me out of the few hours of sleep I worked so hard to achieve. Today marks that one year anniversary of the Reaping, and the nightmares were especially terrifying last night. There hasn't been a single night this past year that hasn't contained some version of mutts or the Arena or Clove dying at the bloody hands of Thresh. Then there are the ones where I'm not in the Games, but the tribute I am mentoring is. Those make me feel almost as hopeless and useless as the others.

Rain relentlessly pelts at the window in unmeasured, uneven taps. The hall light that we always leave on at night gives the bedroom floor a golden glow and illuminates the other side of the bed. Clove's back is turned towards me, but her long hair stretches over the pillows and tickles my cheek. Slowly, I scoot closer to her and lean over, only to find her perfect brown eyes boring into the darkness. I gingerly place my hand on her arm, and she slowly turns to face me.

"Good morning," she says with a light sigh that could possibly be a yawn. Her lips curl into that smile that still makes my heart race like it did when we first met.

"Good morning," I reply with a grin. "What time is it?"

"Almost 6:30, it's been storming for three hours now." Clove has the same problem with bad memories as I do, and she usually is up half the night. Contrary to my begging, she refuses to wake me up when she has one. Her eyes look into mine and I can easily spot the dark bags under them and the haggard look all over her face. She always insists that she's fine and that she's used to the lack of sleep now, but that doesn't stop me from worrying about her.

"Why are you looking at me like that, Cato? Do I have something on my face?" she asks with a bit of worry as she begins to sit up.

"You're just so beautiful, that's all," I reply and tug her back down next to me. I wrap my arms around her waist and kiss her on the forehead.

"You are such a liar," Clove says with a smirk and a giggle.

"Me? A liar? I may be many things, but I am not liar!" I laugh. She hugs me around the neck and taking advantage of her position, I tickle her ribs and laugh triumphantly. Instantly she begins to squirm and squeal.

"Cato! No, please no! Stop! Okay, okay you're not a liar!" she gasps through her laughing spasms.

"Tell me you're beautiful!" I command.

"Fine I'm beautiful! Now would you please stop?" she breathlessly giggles. I tickle more, moving around to her stomach. She erupts in another fit of laughter.

"Now tell me I'm handsome!" I demand.

"But that would make _me_ the liar!" she cackles. I give her one more squeeze for good measure, and we both fall back exhausted. "You are just too much; you know that?" she asks, looking up at the ceiling and still chuckling.

"Well isn't that why you love me?" I smirk at her. She turns her head and looks into my eyes.

"Yeah," she says innocently, "that's exactly why I love you."

**Clove's POV**

Cato and I tickle each other out of bed and begin getting ready for the day. By eight we are both showered, dressed, and have eaten breakfast for yet another day of doing absolutely nothing. After the Victory Tour, our lives became too easy. We have a free house and surplus of food, so there is no need to work. Sometimes we will go down to the Training Academy and help out on a special lesson, but usually we just entertain ourselves around the house. Currently we are working on three different one-thousand-piece puzzles and have played card games so much that the cards are ripping in half. Cato has built a table and a stool, plus a rocking chair for me that I'm sure is going to break apart every time I sit in it. I have managed to knit two ugly scarves and master the art of baking brownies, which Cato has mastered the art of eating. Every evening we go to the gym at the Academy and work all our stress out. It's been a year, but the stress and adrenaline rush never go away. With the Quarter Quell looming in the near future, the stress is even more stressful.

As the newbies, Cato and I will mentor under the instruction of Brutus and Lyme since Enobaria mentored me last year. Honestly I am scared to death. Last year all I had to worry about was keeping myself alive and eventually Cato. If I failed, then I died and it was my own fault. This year it is my responsibility to keep another human being safe and helping them kill. I am so tired of killing.

By noon Cato and I have completed one of the three puzzles and are halfway finished with the other two. Each one was sent by the Capitol and depicts something to do with the government I have come to hate. One shows President Snow in front of his mansion that is a thousand times bigger than the shacks we saw in some of the other Districts on the Victory Tour. Another portrays the Capitol symbol proudly hanging on a flag over the District 2 Justice Building. The third is almost repulsive to look at. It shows Cato, myself, and the other tributes we fought with standing around the Cornucopia before the start of the Games.

I begin to make dinner while Cato goes to buy some groceries in town. Sometimes we will eat with the other Victors at various houses and restaurants when they are in cordial moods, but usually we eat alone. The rainy day makes the flowers out back look exceedingly bright today, so I set the patio table under the back awning to eat outside. The cool and muggy air feels wonderful, and the smell of rain and roses that mingle with each other is delightful. Cato walks in with two bags of groceries just as I am setting out the plates of turkey sandwiches and pasta, Cato's favorite.

"It's a pretty day to eat outside," he comments with a smile. I help him unload the bags and lead him out onto the patio. The sandwiches are plain and I undercooked the pasta, but Cato insists that it is wonderful. We sit and chat, just as helplessly in love as we were a year ago before the Reaping. Tonight is the announcement for the Quarter Quell rules, and I am not looking forward to it. We leave that out of the conversation, although I know he is also thinking about it by the nervousness behind his eyes.

"Clove, I have something big to ask you," he stutters. His eyes look down at the ground and I take his hand across the table. A low rumble of thunder growls in the distance.

"Well you've already asked me to marry you, and I said yes. It can't be a bigger question than that," I tease. He laughs uneasily and meets my gaze. He opens his mouth, but hesitates.

"Do you want to have kids?" he blurts out. I tense up, hoping he doesn't notice. Of course I want to have children, but the fear of them getting reaped is overwhelming. It might already be too late to stop it, though.

"Yes," I reply, trying to keep the fear out of my voice. It's something I was once really good at, but after the Games I never really need it anymore. "Yes I want to have kids."

His lips break into a huge grin and he pulls me out of my chair and into a hug. I squeeze my eyes shut and melt into his arms, hoping he doesn't feel my rigid nervousness. We stand in each other's arms and I know that he will be a great dad.

As much as I don't want our child going to the Academy and learn to kill, I know that their chances of getting reaped are higher. Especially since the "rebellious" stunt, as Brutus calls it, we pulled in the Arena for us both to win. I'm sure Snow wasn't too happy about that. Rumor has it that a few Districts have even had uprisings, but of course the Capitol won't tell us.

The sound of the back gate creaking open breaks us apart, but our hands remain together. Brutus emerges, holding a black umbrella and smirking when he sees us.

"If you two can bear to separate, the program is starting on T.V. I figured you two would forget." He grunts. The program-it's time to see what awful rule alteration the Quarter Quell has in store.

"Thanks, Brutus. We'll go turn it on now," I sigh. He nods and heads back out the gate. Cato and I let go of each other. Silently we have each once again become Game ready: silent, ready for anything, and expecting everything. No emotion, no love, just survival. I sit in the rocking chair in front of the television and Cato takes the plush chair next to it. The ceremony has already begun, and President Snow begins reading off a little card. His voice makes my stomach churn, and the words he reads only make it worse.

"On the 75th anniversary, as a reminder to those who rebel that even the strongest among them cannot overcome the power of Panem, the male and female tributes will be reaped from their existing pool of victors."

Cato gasps, and I angrily get up and turn off the T.V.

**There you have it! Did you like it? Even if you didn't, please leave a review and let me know! I usually try to reply to them and get feedback, it is always appreciated! Thank you for reading, chapter two should be up soon! :)**


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